


New Beginnings

by fiendship



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiendship/pseuds/fiendship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos, fed up with his mundane life, tears off after a rumor and gets off the train at the last stop on the line, beginning his new life in the little town of Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I ride a train to school, so I wrote this quickly on it. It was a short burst of inspiration and I took it.

The last rays of the sun were beginning to slip over the horizon as Carlos felt the train begin to slow down, causing him to sit up and take his feet off the chair. He had been curled up, watching the barren desert landscape slide by. The rock formations in the canyons earlier that day had been fascinating enough to take his mind off his task, but now that they had given way to empty, sun-bleached sand, the true weight of his decision was pressing down on him.

What was he  _ doing? _ Carlos ran a hand through his messy hair and glanced around, taking account of his belongings, which amounted to hardly anything. Deciding on a whim to leave his family and his life of watching Bill Nye and teaching middle school kids and go out into the desert after a place he had only rumors to go off of- the daunting absurdity of his endeavor came surging back like a tidal wave. Most likely, he’d find himself in the remnants of a small town in the middle of nowhere and be stuck for a while before the train came around again. Maybe he could analyze the sand or something while he was at it, but this whole trip was probably gonna end up as a colossal waste of time and money, a delusion pursued by a young man trying far too hard to make a breakthrough by looking in the wrong places.

But possibly.

The faintest hope, the tiniest fraction of Carlos’ logical brain was telling him that it was possible. Sure, maybe over 60% of people can’t go ten minutes without lying, but it was  _ possible _ that the old man wasn’t kidding about the weird lights out in the desert, about ten miles from his hometown. Maybe that woman was telling the truth about that phosphorescent green haze she had seen from the window of a train when the line was still fairly active. Maybe that old report about massive amounts of Radon gas out in the desert wasn’t all a mistake. Maybe those letters addressed to a tiny town in the desert found in that bombed out village in Russia actually did have a basis in fact.

Besides, a scientist lives to discover. And despite the impossible odds, Carlos still felt the thrill of adventure, of discovery, of the idea that there was so much that you simply  _ can’t _ understand- And so here he was, the only passenger on a train into the middle of a barren sand waste. 

And he had promised his mother. “Don’t worry, mama. A scientist is always fine.”

He shook out his long, thin legs to get his blood flowing again and gathered his backpack, standing as the train began to slide in between two long platforms, the inertia causing him to stumble. He grabbed a pole for support, adjusting his glasses as the movement finally stopped and the doors slid open. He took a breath and stepped out of the train, stepping onto a sand-strewn platform and into the cooling night air. Looking back behind his edge of the platform, he could see the tracks stretch a little while out into the desert before they were completely obliterated by the windblown sand.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned to see the conductor walking toward him, his balding head glistening with sweat. 

“So you’re the last one, huh? The one that bought the special ticket.”

Carlos nodded, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. He knew this part of the train line wasn’t used often, partly because of his own deductions and the fact that, at first, nobody could direct him to a line that went to “Red Mesa”. 

The conductor looked out at the barren parking lot and the road that stretched out into the gathering darkness. “I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to find out there. It’s just sand, for miles. I mean, there’s a little town, Pine Cliff, I think? It’s a few miles down, but I don’ think anyone lives there anymore. What’re you studyin’, anyway?” He said,  glancing at Carlos’ lab coat.

“Geological formations.” It was, admittedly, kind of a weak cover story, but It was a convincing one. Most people didn’t believe there was anything out there but rock and sand. 

“Geology, huh?. Doesn’t look like a lot of equipment.” he said, jerking his chin toward the single, small black backpack Carlos was wearing.

“A few friends are gonna come drive their truck down here if I find anything interesting.” Carlos said quietly. He wasn’t usually so reserved about his work- quite the contrary, in fact. His enthusiasm often scared people away-, but saying those words out loud made the idea of finding  _ nothing _ become much more real.

He didn’t want to be the one who had to ride the train back alone in a few days, if he found absolutely nothing. 

He didn’t want to return a failure.

The man nodded, looking distant, perhaps thinking of his own youth. Then, he smiled. “Pine Cliff is just down Route 800 a ways, and it’s gotta have at least a gas station that still operates. And if not, jus’ give the main station a call. Unless you wanna  _ walk _ back.” He chuckled. “Listen, kid. You’ve gotta be, what is it, twenty-four, twenty-five?”

“Twenty-six.” Carlos said, feeling his the back of his neck grow hot. He  _ hated _ being treated like his opinions didn’t matter because he was younger than most people in his field.

“Alrigh’, twenty-six. I was like you, once. Wanted to see eveyrthin’. Let me tell you- I’ve been operatin’ this train for fifteen-some years, and I’ve never heard of anyone,  _ ever _ , headin’ out here willingly. They’ve all been coming back.”

“I’ll be fine.” Carlos said, out loud, trying to convince himself as well.

The man approached and patted him on the shoulder, smiling. “Better get goin’ before it gets too dark. Best of luck.”

Carlos nodded, realising how he had been hanging onto every word of the conversation. Not because it was any different from any other, but because once it was over, he would truly be on his own.  “Thank you.”

He started walking down the platform and onto the cracked highway, hefting his bag higher on his shoulders. He heard an engine, and turned to see the train sliding up back the way it had come, sand billowing in the air and sparkling like fireflies in the rays of the dying sun. Then, taking a deep breath, he steered himself around and began to walk briskly into the encroaching night.

Pine Cliff was deserted and dilapidated, inhabited only by the drifting sand, so Carlos dashed through it in the rapidly fading twilight. Even though he was a scientist and didn’t believe in ghosts, the place made him uneasy. Finally exiting the remains of a deteriorating carnival, Carlos pulled out a flashlight and slowed to a walk, the sky alight with billions of stars. While it was late at night, he didn’t feel the least bit tired, anticipation pushing him on.

He walked for a few hours, taking breaks to look at the harsh environment, search for water sources- He had his own, but the proof would mean a possibility of humans-, or simply lay back and gaze at the stars. He was in no particular hurry to find  _ nothing _ .

The sky was gradually getting lighter, and the enthusiasm was beginning to wayne. Carlos began to panic, the idea of failure like a black, choking fog in his mind, shutting off all reason. He flashed his light across the landscape, his breathing getting ragged. Maybe just over that next hill, there was the canyon, a broken building,  _ something _ -

A little desert fox gazed at him, it’s dark eyes unafraid of humans, and all hope disappears like water dried by the hot desert sun.

It had only been a possibility, he knew. He had known that there probably wasn’t anything, but accepting it was harder than he thought it would be. It meant more than his personal failure, more than money, more than time, more than his reputation.

It meant that mystery was dead in the world.

He pulled out his phone to call his friends, tell them to give up and go back to their jobs, desperately trying not to cry. His phone screen was black, turned off manually to preserve battery life. Despite his self control, albeit well practiced, he felt himself start to cry. As he tried to dash the tears away, some rolled onto the screen, reflecting the stars and a bright, gleaming supernova, not unlike the shattered remnants of his dream. Then, he blinked.

The supernova had  _ moved. _

Hardly daring to hope, Carlos turned around and peered into the glittering sky for the abnormal beacon.  _ There! _ The light blinked again, and another, a little further down, beckoning him. All exhaustion forgotten, Carlos broke into a run, following the lights, a wise man in search of the christ child. The fox darted back into the cacti, but Carlos didn’t even see it.

He ran after the lights, which gradually faded as the sky shifted into indigo as the sun broke free and spilled over the horizon. Then he was breathing heavily, struggling up a hill as the sun finally pushed his strange, inexplicable guide back into a haze of blue, and he was rounding the top, and then-

And then.

No matter how much he had thought of the town in the desert, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. He expected to see the buildings in disrepair from the massive earthquakes that often occurred out here, or a faint green glow of radioactivity, but no. It was a small, simple town with an impossibly tall Arby’s sign and a radio tower blinking lazily in the background.

The sight took his breath away.

There it was. The mysterious town nobody had ever thought to be real. It was even more than that. There was everything he had been searching for, contained in a few blocks of suburbia. The town didn’t even seem to notice him there, as if it didn’t care about someone so small and insignificant, while Carlos’ mind was going a trillion miles an hour, trying to wrap his mind about the absolute  _ ludicrosity _ of it all. But no time to think- Carlos felt the town pulling him in, beckoning him with ideas and new opportunity.

He adjusted his backpack again on his shoulder, breathing in the hazy, only slightly hazardous-smelling air.

And started forward.


End file.
